


The Distance Between Us

by communikate



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Older/Aged Characters, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Holding Hands, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 05:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13675260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/communikate/pseuds/communikate
Summary: Hunk didn't expect Keith to wander into his little gourmet bakery. Not after leaving space ten years ago in the wake of Zarkon's death. Not after losing all contact two years ago. Not when the distance that'd opened up between them had become almost insurmountable.





	The Distance Between Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JamtheDingus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamtheDingus/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's Day Dion!!! I'm so happy that I could be your Valentine! You gave me the great prompt of "Older Heith, holding hands," and this is where my brain went with it, so I hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> So I hope you have a happy Valentines day filled with laughter and love <3

The bell dings as the door opens, and Hunk calls out without looking up from the dough he’s kneading in the exposed kitchen. “One second!” His voice is gentle as he dusts the excess flour and sticky gluten on his apron. Striding to the counter, he gazes out at the man who’s clearly out of place in his little shop.

It’s a quaint place, something Hunk hadn’t realized he’d been dreaming about while studying at the Garrison or flying giant, robotic lions in space or fighting and killing for his life and his friends. He shivers at the thought, still triggered by certain sounds or phrases, instinctively reaching for his thigh, for his bayard, for protection. But there was nothing there but the baggy pocket of his shorts.

The man standing in his shop is short, dressed in all black, starkly contrasting the pastels of Hunk’s gourmet pastry shop. Hunk stops, feet stilling underneath him when he sees the familiar face.

With hands buried deep in his pockets, the man shrugs with a small smile, “Hey Hunk.”

And Hunk shivers, remembering so many things he thought he’d forgotten: the casual curl to Keith’s lips or the way wisps of his hair twined in his eyelashes and fanned around his neck or the confident lean to his stance. Keith looks older than the last Hunk had seen him, hair longer and twisting loosely in a ponytail. Scars a little less prominent against the porcelain of his skin. Eyes a little less harrowed then they’d been in the midst of the battle and the constant anticipation of attack.

“Keith,” Hunk breathes, stumbling around the counter to envelope him in a hug. Keith chuckles against Hunk’s burly chest, wrapping his arms around the yellow paladin and returning the hug.

“Hey, big guy,” Keith jokes again before Hunk finally lets him go, hands resting on his shoulders and looking him over at arm’s length.

He’s almost surprised at how little Keith’s clothing choices had changed, even in the past 10 years: worn jeans with tears in the knees, a black t-shirt and leather jacket, and of course, his classic black gloves. “You’re h-” and Hunk swallows the word ‘home’ before continuing, “You’re here. On Earth.”

“Yeah,” Keith comments, tilting his head to the side and smiling. But Hunk can’t seem to process that Keith is here after so long. Of course, during his entire life he’s never been more than a five minute drive from Lance, and now Pidge and him keep in constant contact even while she’s off traveling to different companies across the globe.

But it’s hard getting messages from light years away in space. Shiro and Allura send updates from the castle, detailing their efforts to establish the Blade of Marmora as the rulers of the Galra and expose the brainwashed citizens of the Empire to Zarkon’s heinous atrocities. Lotor’s generals have thankfully backed all of their claims using their influence to sway the masses, especially in the aftermath of Lotor’s betrayal and manipulation of the paladins. The generals were an unlikely ally that had played a large hand in Voltron’s new control of the Galra Empire.

Hearing from Keith though has been even less frequent than Shiro and Allura’s updates. He’d never left the Blade, continuing his training and gradually rising through the ranks. And between his duties and quelling disputes between minor Galra reaching for power after Zarkon and Lotor’s deaths, he’d been busy. So Keith had done what the Blade of Marmora do best: put the mission first and blend into the shadows.

The last Hunk had heard from Keith had been two years ago when he’d sent a selfie from Vrepit Sal’s, holding a lamb chop with sauce and a menu that called it “The Authentic Paladin Lunch.”

“It’s been like ten years,” Hunk mumbles, dropping his hands to his sides and clenching them instinctively, before he forced them to relax.

His mind rambles on, filtering down the millions of reasons why Keith could be here, all of them more horrifying and paralyzing than the last. But he catches himself on the smile gracing Keith’s face, the playful tilt to his lips.

Hunk notices the new scar that cuts through his left eyebrow, missing his eye and embedding deep into his cheek. The scar tissue is white, almost glistening like the trail of a comet in the florescent lights of his shop. There’s a maturity to Keith’s features, a sculpted kind of harshness that hadn’t graced his face as a teenager.

“Nine and a half.” Keith shrugs, hands falling out his pockets. While his eyes trail over the lacey trim that lines the room, one hand runs through his hair like he’s searching for something to distract his fidgeting fingers.

“Do--” Hunk fumbles, finally beginning to catch onto the dreamlike feeling that Keith is actually standing before him, “Do the other’s know you’re here?”

Keith laughed, a dark kind of chuckle that made Hunk’s stomach flutter. “I didn’t even tell Shiro and Allura I was taking a pod last night.”

Hunk crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. “Ten years older and still the same reckless red paladin.”

“General,” Keith corrects, and Hunk catches a small flash of regret on his face before Keith sighs and continues. “Blade of Marmora General.”

Hunk’s mind wheels, wondering if Red ever took Keith back after accepting Lance, even when they returned to Earth, even in all of these years. Wondering if Yellow still misses him, and if it’s his call he hears in the middle of his dreams, a muted purr like a sleep-swallowed snore.

And it’s in that moment that Hunk realizes they’ve been just standing in the middle of the store for the last five minutes. He jumps, motioning to a table as he runs behind the counter, pulling out the last of one type of cupcake and a scone. “Oh, sit, please. I’ll just grab you something to eat and drink. Sorry to keep you standing, I just wasn’t thinking -”

“Hunk,” Keith cuts him off as he places the plate with so much force the desserts almost slide onto the table. Eyes flick up from the seat Keith just took, and Hunk’s heart stills. The sun shines through the window next to the table Keith chose, dancing Keith’s stormy irises and catching rainbows on his eyelashes. “It’s okay. It’s just me, no need to play host of the year.” Keith chuckles as he grabs the cupcake, carefully peeling the paper back and taking a small bite.

Hunk relishes in the small, pleased moan from the back of Keith’s throat. “Red velvet,” he speaks as he slips into the chair opposite of Keith, enjoying the heat of Keith’s bare knees as they brush past each other. “Your favorite, right?”

“God Hunk,” Keith groans through another bite, “I knew you could make awesome food goo, but this is incredible.” Hunk chuckles at that, balancing his chin on his cupped hand, elbow propped on the table, enjoying the sight of Keith, attempting to catalog every change on Keith’s person. “Galra don’t have taste buds, trust me.”

“Is that why you’re so skinny?” Hunk jokes, reaching out and wrapping a hand around Keith’s slender wrist, fingertips easily meeting. He let his hand linger longer than necessary, enjoying the heat of the his skin. Fingers delicately draw away, and Hunk barely catches the end of a shiver that travels the length of Keith’s spine.

“You have no idea.” Keith rolls his eyes, smirking behind the half-eaten cupcake.

Hunk taps his fingers between each other, fluttering for something to do while Keith quietly munches on his cupcake.

His mind is reeling because he can't stop thinking about why Keith would visit, after all of these years, after this whole lack of communication. A million questions filtering along his tongue, but only one slips out. "So, why now?" His hands still on the table, spreading and pressing into the lacquered wood. He doesn't meet Keith's gaze, but watches as he slowly sets the half-eaten cupcake back onto the plate.

"Because," Keith sighs, and Hunk’s eyes catch the movement of Keith dipping his head backward, gaze cast to the ceiling. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows harshly, accenting the faint line of a scar across the length of his neck. "I didn't want to wait anymore."

"For what?" Hunk grumbles, confused and almost irritated that Keith thinks he can just walk into his shop and pull his heart into somersaults.

Keith's head lolls forward, meeting his gaze with eyes so tired that Hunk's heart hollows.

"To come home. I didn’t want to wait to come home." His voice is a whisper, a haunted thing, tentative and fragile in the quiet air of the pastry shop. The last word is almost a question, an uncertain, hesitant declaration. Home. Hunk almost wants to interrupt, but his fingers only press deeper into the wood, throat dry. Keith chuckles, picking a crumb of the cupcake off the table and crushing it between his fingers like he's fighting for the right words. "I'm not good at keeping in contact."

Hunk merely raises an eyebrow, because any response that tickled his tongue is sarcastic and biting and a little to jarring for the heartfelt nature of their reunion.

"I just missed you guys," Keith breathes. "It's lonely and quiet without you - you guys." Keith's hands clench, and he hides them underneath the table that shakes a little bit with the tapping of Keith's heel.

"You could've visited anytime."

"So could you." Keith instantly shoots back, confidence regained in a miniature flash of anger.

With shaking fingers biting into the flesh of his knees, Hunk retorts. "It's not that easy to go to _space_ , Keith."

Licking his lips, Keith shakes his head. "Well, it's not easy to come here either."

There is a heavier weight to both of their statements. Hunk alluding that going to space with its endless possibilities makes his simple life here on Earth almost hollow and inconsequential to everything they had done once upon a time, to the greater purpose they had been serving. Or the fact that the Castle of Lions still haunts his dreams, makes him so nauseous and terrified with a sense of bitter nostalgia.

And Keith, chewing on his lip and eyes gazing at the window, looks so conflicted. It's a look Hunk has rarely seen on Keith, normally exuding a sense of confidence and determination that easily influenced the entire team.

"It's nice." Keith's shoulders sag, picking at the scone and licking a crystal of sugar from his fingertip, "Earth. It's so peaceful."

"Yeah," Hunk nods. "A little boring though."

Keith chokes on a laugh like he wasn't expecting Hunk to say that. His face, moments ago so conflicted and fragile, breaks into effortless mirth. Nose scrunching and eyes closed with laughter that colors Hunk's shop in jewel tones and saturates the atmosphere.

"Come on a Blade mission and you'll miss this," Keith chuckles. Taking a huge bite of the scone, he mumbles around the food, "Or eat the rations they give us and you'll coming running back."

There's a peaceful silence, filled with too much time between them, too much space, as if they're sorting through the memories and debating on what to share or where to start bridging the infinite chasm that's opened between them.

"We've missed you," Hunk admits, fingers relaxed on the table and heart hammering in his chest. His lips almost slip, almost admitting that his heart hurts more than Lance, distracted by the family he missed so dearly in space, or Pidge, distracted by the family she regained and the life she’s currently rebuilding. That even with his family and the little pastry shop, he’s been lonely, aching and startlingly empty.

"I’ve missed you too." But Keith meets his gaze, and his tone almost makes it seem like the statement was only meant for him. His heart constricts in his chest, a palatable palpitation.

Keith finishes his scone, and Hunk picks up the plate, walking back behind the kitchen. Unsure of what to do next, where to go in this conversation with a finite number of harmless topics. "Want to call Lance to come meet us? He's just around the corner actually."

When Keith speaks, Hunk jumps, not expecting the General to have followed him into the kitchen. The short boy leans against the threshold to the kitchen, looking out over Hunk's workroom. Half-kneaded dough left on the table, visible hand prints in its malleable surface and flour dusting everything.

"Maybe in a little bit."

Hunk faces him, noticing the slight flush to Keith's cheeks and how close he is. He nods slightly, throat suddenly dry as he licks his lips.

"I just," and Keith sighs, running trembling hands through his hair. "I actually just got back from a dangerous Blade mission."

Hunk stiffens at those words, taking a fraction of a step closer to Keith as if to feel his body heat and ensure this isn't some fevered dream or apparition of Keith’s last will. "Are you okay?"

Keith's chuckle is self-deprecating and nothing close to the ringing of chimes of his earlier laughter. His gaze is downcast as he answers, a faint whisper. "I’m okay now. Just needed a short trip to the castle’s healing pods." He shrugs, "Noble Galra and bombs, am I right?" And he says it like it's some kind of inside joke.

Hunk’s hands twitch at his sides, desperate to wrap Keith in another hug, or to demand that it isn’t funny. To demand that Keith stay here on Earth where it’s safe, to stay home. With him.

But Hunk has always know there was a sense of adventure within Keith, one that couldn’t be tethered to a single place. The Garrison, even with its promise of the future and exploration, had only held Keith for so long.

Hunk knows he can’t keep him here, like pinning the end of a comet and expecting it not fight at its restraints.

"So when I woke up, I stole a pod to come here."

"To come," Hunk struggles with his words, "here?"

Keith nods, chewing on his bottom lip. "You were my only regret." Keith's words are hollow as if he was reliving those last moments before being shut in the pod, floating in limbo.

But Hunk stomach roils at Keith's wording.

A regret.

"I never got to -" Keith cuts himself off, finally meeting Hunk's panicked gaze. His hands are buried in his apron strings, desperate for something to steady their shaking. Anxiety sings in Hunk’s blood at the sound of the shuttered sigh that rattles from Keith’s lips. "I like you," Keith breathes as if it's his first breath of fresh air and his last breath underwater. A combination of acquiescence and relief.

And Hunk freezes, mind struggling to grasp the last edges of Keith’s words. To pin them down within his heart and keep it fluttering, to cage the butterflies within his ribs and relive this moment with every exhalation.

Keith takes a step back as if he’s debating on running, sprinting for the door to his pod and hurtling himself into space, furthering the distance between them.

“I just needed you to know,” Keith whispers. “Just needed to try.” His smile is a weak, pathetic thing, an essence Hunk has never seen the likes of on the Keith’s features.

All Hunk can manage to say is, “It’s been ten years.” He swallows the other demands of why Keith never contacted him in all those years or why he pulled away in the beginning or how could he truly like him when he’s been gone for years and years and they’ve grown so far apart it’s cavernous between them?

“Yeah.” Keith nods, but doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t announce his thoughts.

Hunk takes a small step forward, watching as Keith’s stance falters, debating on backing up and leaving, eyes still refusing to meet Hunk’s gaze. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, lungs filled with stagnant air, throat tight.

And neither of them speak for a moment, a tense moment in this pastel, gourmet bakery, smelling of fresh dough and sugared candies.

“You don’t know who I am,” Hunk whispers, and he doesn’t have to follow it with the unspoken ‘anymore.’ Keith finally meets his gaze, almost taken aback at the challenge in his eyes before his face settles into the lines Hunk once knew so well - now with the added decorations of longer bangs and the comet trails of scars. “It’s been ten years, and we haven’t heard from you, and -” But Hunk cuts himself off before he can only wheeze out words.

“I didn’t hear from you guys either,” Keith retorts, crossing his arms and there’s an angry flash in his eyes, indignant. “There are only so many responses to news articles or new memes or shit.” Hunk watches as Keith’s fingers dig deeper into his arms, tensing as if desperate to seek some kind of outlet for his biting anger. His gaze darts to the ground, and Hunk can see the way the muscles in his jaw jump.

Hunk isn’t sure what to say. He tries to think over the messages that he sent: small updates with pictures and transcribing Lance’s long rambling stories and the weather and the sights and sounds from Earth. The memory of his thoughtlessness makes bile burn in the back of his throat. Was he just bragging about Earth to Keith, making him miss something he couldn’t come back to because his sense of duty always outweighed his sense of self?

“Your messages were nice to reread though,” Keith admits, a slight blush dusting his cheekbones.

The unanswered statement settles into the air, into the breath between them. Where Keith didn’t ask for a response to his feelings, Hunk feels compelled to say something, to capture his own beating heart and shake it for some sort of answer.

“So,” he begins, hands tensing in his apron and dampening the fabric with sweat, “you - you like me.” And Keith’s blush only darkens. “Back on the ship, I think I might’ve,” his swallow cuts him off, and Keith’s eyes dart to his, “admired you, liked you or something like that,” Hunk finishes lamely.

“But?” Keith prompts him, predicting the caveat from the furrow of his brow.

“But, I feel like I don’t know you anymore,” Hunk finishes.

He fights the urge to run his fingers down the scar that transects Keith’s eye, asking him to describe it and all the battles that had happened since Hunk left space. Anything to close the distance between them.

Keith shrugs, hands falling to his sides and digging into his jean pockets. “It’s been ten years.”

Hunk steps forward, feeling Keith’s body heat radiating between them, comforting and almost foreign in this ungraspable time that separates them. “But I wouldn’t mind learning,” Hunk’s hand drops from his apron strings, swinging by his side, fingers twitching to wind with Keith’s.

Keith’s eyes meet his - wide, shocked and vulnerable.

“I have to go back in three days.” And it’s as if Keith is debating Hunk’s intentions, presenting an argument against himself.

“Then you better keep your intergalactic phone on you, and actually answer your messages.” Hunk’s fingers trace lightly on Keith’s wrist as an invitation to take his hands from his pockets, an invitation for subtle contact and the promise of more.

Keith’s hand slowly pulls from his pocket, fingertips brushing over Hunk’s hand as if wanting to memorize every aspect of it before their fingers twine together. His chest compresses, the desperation and exhilaration of the butterflies trapped within his lungs is too much.

“I’m not good at answering messages.”

“Then we’ll both learn what works best.” Hunk almost feels strange for being so optimistic, but Keith’s hand tightens on his, tainting his cheeks with a deeper blush, and Hunk understands. Earth has only been boring because he’d missed some of the adventure, that fiery spirit, that limitless determination.

“I won’t be able to visit very often.” Keith’s fingers relax in his grip. “Maybe only once or twice a month.”

Keith’s bangs dip over his face, and Hunk finally lets his fingers act on what they’ve been aching to do. Gently, he shifts Keith’s chin up so that their eyes are locked. He brushes a gentle fingertip over the end of the scar that sinks deep into the flesh of his cheek.

“Maybe I could visit you too,” he suggests even as his heart stutters with a kind of fear that’s paralyzed him at the mere mention of the Galra.

Hunk can see the serious scrutiny on Keith’s features as he watches him. “You don’t have to force yourself to.” He leans into Hunk’s touch as if absorbing the little physical contact. “But Yellow does miss you. He’s almost whinier than Blue.” Keith’s chuckle is lost in the base of Hunk’s palm, fine lips brushing over the tender skin there.

The moment between them is filled with a different tension then before, curling around them and almost drawing them together.

“So is that a yes?” Keith mumbles.

“Yes to what?” Hunk questions, attempting to pin the fog around them into words, to pin the enigmatic Keith Kogane, former Red and Black Paladin, Blade of Marmora General, to him with words alone.

Keith stumbles, body stiffening under Hunk’s touch, “Getting to know each other.” It's as much a question as it's a statement.

And there is the unspoken hope that they’d learn enough to rekindle what they’d hidden all those years ago in the hallways of the Castle of Lions.

“Yeah.” Hunk nods, smiling and meeting Keith’s soft smile, subtle and winding slowly.

“Yeah?” Keith’s whisper is a fragile, delicate thing.

Hunk chuckles, pulling Keith against his chest and closing the distance between them. “Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> I love love love hearing feedback from you guys. Your comments literally mean the world to me!!
> 
> Come hit me up on my [tumblr](https://voltronhastakenovermylife.tumblr.com)!!
> 
> Also big, big thanks to [Malevelynce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malevelynce/pseuds/Malevelynce) for being an amazing beta!! Please go check out her wonderful Heith fics!! They are amazing!!
> 
> Also, thanks to Kanishka and Chaitali. You know what you did.


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